A Nice Title About A Poem Poem by zmz gbzn

a competition for attention
cannot be won be me
'gainst all the ghosts and their inventions
from every past century

so let's drink up and scotch the spirits
with a fine cask of our own
'to your health! ' -- we praise its merits,
but awakening, find it gone

still, the embracing mediocrity
middling at best
accepted like an easy rhyme,
lifts up crest-fallen jest

just such a strong grasp has me in hand
squeezing death from lung
making light of every word
that has not yet been sung

the spectres never quit the mind
we share with them past life
and the future, and the present time
how still remains, how strife?

they answer in that dreamy space
they answer from their empty faces
the answer in the empty spaces
the answer in a dream.